All Is Not Lost
by mmlubr
Summary: Life takes a hideous downswing for 32 year old Kisa Shouta when his worst suspicion is answered – that of Yukina's messing around with him. The one comforting him at this time is the person to whom his existence scarcely mattered before : Ijuuin Kyou.
1. Chapter 1

ALL IS NOT LOST

Manga : Sekaiichi Hatsukoi

Characters : Kisa Shouta, Yukina Kou and Ijuuin Kyou

Rating : T; Second half is 'M'

DISCLAIMER : All characters rightfully belong to Nakamura Shungiku.

Summary : Life takes a hideous downswing for 32 year old Kisa Shouta when his worst suspicion is answered – that of Yukina's messing around with him. The one comforting him at this time is the person to whom his existence scarcely mattered before : Ijuuin Kyou.

The tiny embers of his suspicion had been stoked when he first found a bunch of pornos, with positively explicit covers, stashed in a hidden corner of Yukina's bedroom. Shouta had at that time chided himself for his frequent baseless suspicions, telling himself that Yukina was a healthy young man with an equally healthy libido. If he thought back, in his heyday he too had leafed through many an X-rated mag. Even though he was the archetype of his ideal conjured up prince, he couldn't be expected to be gratified only with Shouta. As it was, with his erratic work hours and the younger man's part-time in the bookstore, they had, admittedly, very limited time left to spend with each other.

Scrolling to the bottom of the page, he sighed heavily at discovering, in blaring print, the sales figures for his author's manga had once more dwindled. In itself, even initially the number had been only fair, so seeing the plunging digits did nothing to ease the slab seemingly laid over his conscience. Checking out the rankings and stats of the other more popular, recently released works, he groaned out loud at realizing the causative agents accountable for the dip in the sales : Yoshikawa Chiharu's manga (again at its abominable first spot), followed closely by Ichinose Erica's, AND Mutou Yukina's managed by rookie editor Ri-chan, was also doing splendidly! A small respite for him was in the form of the more than stellar sales of his manga in the Marimo bookstore, presided by none other than Yukina at the helm of promoting his author's work.

Thinking of the thought, time and effort his lover put into each of his ideas for selling _his _books made him feel lower than a gnat for the constant spurts of doubt he kept having about him. There were times when he couldn't help it; the decade long chasm between their ages, Shouta's innate insecurities and Yukina's naturally gentle and undemanding nature made him paranoid, eliciting the absolute worst ends to long-term relationships, like the one he shared with his younger man, in his mind.

The latest cycle had just ended and so the entire Maiden department was strewn with pink plushies, stuffed-toys and dolls, with the whole surrounding area suffused in different shades of pink. But even the cheery ambience did nothing to pull him out of his depressing brood. With a sniff, he lowered himself onto his desk to put his head down. But he wasn't allowed to wallow in self-pity in peace. Someone had to tap him on the shoulder to disturb him even then. He twisted his neck to look at the intruder bothering him with barely concealed hostility on his face. It was Ritsu. Finding no reason to drag him into his self-imposed headache, he arranged his features into some semblance of a watery smile. He normally didn't make it a habit of publicly expressing his innermost feelings and didn't intend to start now.

Ritsu was looking at him with a worried look on his face. Frowning a little, he asked, "Kisa-san, are you feeling alright?" Patting the younger man's hand in a friendly way, he eased his worries. "Yep, Ri-chan. I'm good, I'd just tired myself ragged these past few weeks, that's all."

Still not convinced, the younger man shook his head. "That's not the problem, Kisa-san. The cycle's been over for a week now but despite that you've been fairly moping throughout. Its not my place to say this, but if you're having problems, _any_ sort of problems, you can talk it out…" Getting those words out, Ritsu blushed slightly. He should have been annoyed at the younger man's nosiness, but in spite of himself, Shouta grinned. It was sometimes hard to reconcile the uptight, stiff, standoffish Ritsu with the present open and friendly one. In response, he tried to refuse and ward him off, but when he found no success, relented at last.

Drawing his desired answer out of Shouta, Ritsu smiled, a rare occurrence that was since since there was mostly a distressed expression playing about his face unceasingly. Still smiling, he added, "Okay, lets get out somewhere after work. My shout. And also, don't back out at the last minute…" He was about to say more but was stopped short since Takano was hollering his name in the distance. Shouta felt a little sorry for the guy as their formidable editor-in-chief constantly amused himself by bullying him. Grimacing, he nodded politely in his direction and rushed off to the source of the irritated roaring.

Pacified for the time being, Shouta got down to work, making some calls to enquire about the story's progress from his author, then busied himself answering the calls he received. Although it was a bit of slack time for the department, he wanted to be ready this once for the upcoming all round assault to his senses in the form of the future cycle, which he should normally be prepared for but never was. The remaining day hightailed in the midst of his making and answering calls, missing his lunch in the process. All through, he was aware of his cell phone buzzing with new messages, and from the one look he could afford to sneak, it turned out to be Yukina. Shouta didn't know what to reply in answer to his ever polite texts, so refrained from answering at all. He was sure Yukina would understand.

* * *

><p>He thought Ritsu would forget, but he didn't. They did in fact leave the office to land up at a new, much talked about restaurant. Shouta wondered if it was his fate to hover around the places Yukina would inevitably be in. This bistro was situated opposite the Marimo bookstore, where Yukina must still be selling books with his charm. Now that he thought about it, getting out of the stuffy workplace was a welcome distraction from all the tedious thoughts gnawing at him from the moment he woke up. He and Ritsu took a seat in a vacant corner, away from the eyes of all the people coming in and out of the place.<p>

They must have arrived at quarter to eight and surprisingly, the bistro was brimming with people within a scant few minutes. Behind the alcove their table was in, both enjoyed a pleasant and frivolous conversation ranging from general Marukawa affairs to the ongoings, skin-deep however, of their life. Ritsu ordered a café mocha for himself while Shouta stuck to the usual stuff, black coffee. Both were having quite a lot of fun talking about idle things till Ritsu's cell phone began to ring. He cracked up seeing the plethora of emotions running over the younger man's face. Whoever the caller was, he had made him look annoyed, confused, forlorn, lovesick and annoyed again in the span of an instant. The younger man adamantly kept silencing the call, whereas the caller determinedly continued calling. He couldn't keep himself from laughing out loud at all the abject looks of embarrassment crossing his face. Finally, Shouta winked at him and said, "Answer the call already, Ri-chan. Who knows, it must be an important message or something."

Agreeing reluctantly, Ritsu fled for a private corner and began to animatedly talk to whoever had called. Assuming the call to be from his girlfriend, Shouta chuckled and thought to himself he would tease the younger guy later. After a few minutes, the younger man came back and apologized, "Kisa-san, I'm really sorry, I have to go… Something urgent has come up and… I was the one who had invited you but then…" The poor guy couldn't go on any longer, mortified to death that he was. Shouta brushed off his sorrys with easy affability."Its okay, Ri-chan, no need to apologize. You said its something urgent, so don't waste your breath. Scram!" Putting in a few more guilt-ridden words, he rushed off.

He didn't have any particular appetite, but went ahead to order a sub for himself anyway. While waiting for his order, he sipped coffee and checked his latest emails. There was one from his author informing him about the progress she had made, another from Hatori filling him in on some official stuff, and none from Yukina. He thumbed through the ones he had sent in the daytime. They were the familiar cursory ones the younger man was notorious for. The first one was for wishing him good morning and asking him how his morning was, the second a good afternoon one and the last one telling him that he wouldn't be able to meet him today as he had to study for some tests. That was it. Pressing two fingers to the side of his temple since an insistent throbbing had started just then, he pondered about art students having strenuous exams. As far as he knew they didn't, but he was in no frame of mind to question his reason for not seeing him.

As he was tapping his fingers on the table in boredom, his sub arrived. He muttered a thanks to the server and with no apparent hurry, polished off half of it. Next, he downed the last remnants of his coffee and once again, futilely, flicked a glance at his cell. Still nothing. Indicating the waiter for his bill, he contemplated that it was just as well that Ritsu had hurried off in the middle. He didn't quite know how he would have answered his concerned queries.

Paying the bill, he made his way to the exit. Of their own accord, his legs carried him in the direction of the Marimo bookstore. Unlike most days today the store wasn't teeming with chattery, salivating Yukina fangirls. He was half expecting the counter manned by him to have the manager behind it. His eyes widened owlishly when he found the younger man – Yukina, supposedly _studying_ at home, engaged in a merry banter with a guy around his own age.

Before the younger man could spot him, Shouta whipped a sanitary mask from his pocket, stuck it on his face and swiftly made his way inside to take cover behind a big bookshelf. Pretending to be in the act of browsing books, he spied them.

From the crack through which the duo at the front were visible, he noted grimly that the man along with Yukina was just as drop dead gorgeous as him. From the side profile available from his hiding place, he could discern that the unknown man had sable colored shoulder length hair, was of the same height as Yukina and was willowy and slender in built. Something, which he didn't want to name as jealousy, was bitterly churning in his gut as he realized that they were conversing with the familiarity of long-time friends.

He reflected reproachfully that the younger man was so engrossed in his chat that he didn't even notice Shouta's arrival, which added to the few handful of customers in the shop. Which was really uncharacteristic of him.

The outside traffic, the steady humming of the indoor air conditioners and the TV playing nearby didn't allow him to grasp anything from the pair's talk. He looked on with a jaundiced eye as the unknown man said something to make Yukina's face contort with grief, and then proceed to take the latter's hand in his own. After that, Yukina turned silent only to stare miserably into his acquaintance's face, nodded and uttered a yes to something (the only thing Shouta could make out with the help of his heretofore useless lip-reading skills.)

Thereafter Yukina removed his staff apron, called one of the part-timers, presumably telling him he was leaving and walked out hand in hand with his friend. Reverer of good looking faces that he was, even Shouta had to admit to his heart skipping a beat as he saw the stranger smiling to something the younger man said, which transformed his already striking face to stunning. Witnessing it, a small nasty voice from inside his head said _you don't stand a chance against him._

Feeling that he couldn't let this breach of trust go without getting to the root of the matter, Shouta inconspicuously and unceremoniously stalked them. As he tailed the pair, he bitterly thought that throughout the course of his relationship with Yukina countless men had offered to grace his bed but he, feeling the tug of sentiments or maybe hormones, had stoically declined, remaining loyal to his young lover. All along, he had blindly taken the younger man's fidelity for granted. Even now some part of his naïve conscience was telling him that they could be no more than friends. Harshly stamping on his inner voice, Shouta wondered if the younger man's getting overly close to his _friends _was happening for the first time or had it in fact happened countless other times before? Whatever it was, he wouldn't know without seeing it with his own two eyes.

A few blocks ahead, both men got into a cab while Shouta too hailed one, telling the driver to follow the car ahead of them. Winding through lane after lane, the car he was following came to stop. Shouta told the driver to halt his car a few paces behind them. Looking at the surrounding area, he realized he had fallen into the worst cliché. The entire area was full of all sorts of love hotels. Not wasting anymore time, he shoved the required wad of bills into the driver's hand and hastily got out. He watched as Yukina and his friend walked into a shady hotel called Elegant. From the pillar he was hiding behind, he observed while his heart was shattering into million tiny pieces. The younger man booked a room for both of them, then walked inside with his friend following him. There was no mistaking it this time. Suddenly weary, Shouta slumped onto an adjoining pillar and thought with contempt that he wouldn't be forgiving the son-of-a-bitch any time soon.

Leaning his head onto the pillar, Shouta apprehended with some horror that hot tears of humiliation and betrayal combined were leaking unbidden through his closed lids. He couldn't imagine anything worse than a public breakdown, that too in full view of the seedy locale. With his face turned to the wall, he consciously wiped his tears and overflowing nose. As he was in the act of blowing his nose, he felt a giant hand pawing his butt. Awesome, getting molested by a pervert from the area would be like a cherry on the icing to his already wretched day.

He whirled around ready to punch out the scoundrel's teeth if necessary in the pressing need of self preservation. But on turning to face his offender found himself sadly mismatched in strength and height, resultantly intimidating him. Although he would rather saw off his tongue than make the admission out loud. This peculiar molester was a giant of a man, nearly six feet tall, with his messy hair tied up in a stubby ponytail, thick glasses practically obscuring his eyes and a jaw darkened with many days' growth of stubble. With the man's sheer size and the ominously menacing aura emanating from him, Shouta was for the first time worried about bodily harm. He wouldn't have been surprised if he had been raped then and there on the road and couldn't let out a squeak in the process.

In his lengthy study of his (very possible) rapist he comprehended a bit too late that the man had his arm in a steel grip. Watching the word fear blatantly stamped all over his face, the fiendishly tall man's grip loosened a mite, viselike all the same. In a gentle tone the man asked, "Hey, what are you doing in a place like this? You're obviously underage." The last part of the statement was uttered quite confidently, as if he knew everything about him.

Staring mesmerized into his eyes, much like a prey looking in stunned awe at its predator, he only then came to learn by means of the overhead streetlight that the man's eyes were a tawny gold in color. How or why he noticed it he didn't know. Under the scrutiny of his hawk-like gaze, Shouta found it difficult to find his voice. Embarrassing himself further by stammering, he replied, "I-I'm not underage…" The man snorted derisively at that.

"As if! I don't believe you. Anyway, back to my original question : what are you doing here?"

He tried to wrack his brain for a suitable lie. Deciding on one, he answered as evenly as he could, "I'm waiting for my girlfriend…"

He got an arch look in response this time. Whatever the giant man thought about his very plain fabrication, he thankfully kept it to himself. He had to struggle to make something out of his unreadable expression. "I see. Mind telling me your age, please?"

Yes, he minded very much indeed! Squeamish already, he was peeved at the uncalled for rendezvous. What, so the asshole wanted a biodata before assaulting him?

Trying his level best to look unruffled and nonchalant, Shouta pointed his middle finger at him, in his current circumstances a very bold up yours. "God, you bastard, you my mother or something? I'm 23, okay? Now quit the rapidfire and fuck off already!"

He still didn't let go of his arm. "Tch, profanities don't sound good coming from a kid like you. Other than that, are you telling the truth?"

"Yeah!," returned Shouta, exasperated now.

"For real?"

"Yes, really!"

It took him some time before he got it through his head that the predator gleam in his eye had now been replaced with a faintly amused and mocking look. Finally releasing his arm, he flicked some imaginary lint from his shoulder and smoothed the front of his sweatshirt. Tilting his chin up so that they were eye to eye, the tall man uttered in a barely audible whisper, "Care if I give you some company?"

Like a knee jerk, Shouta's eyes flashed with defiance from some innermost reservoir of strength. "Whatever for?"

With the slightest of slight teasing smiles dancing over the corners of his mouth, he modified, "We can make polite conversation if you like till your _girlfriend_ arrives."

If there was unnecessary emphasis on the word girlfriend, then he did not notice it. Just then he was unglued if he had even mentioned a girlfriend. Oh yes, he had. It was an integral part of his lie.

Seeing the desire shimmer unmasked on the man's face, he concurred that it was hopeless to protest or resist. In the surroundings they were in, no one would spare him a second even if he screamed; It would probably be mistaken for something else entirely. Besides, his rapist was determined to have his way. Sighing, Shouta nodded and added a caustic yes for good measure, in case he didn't see him nod in the dim light. He got a pleased smile in return for the go-ahead. Unfortunately, his abused arm was once again trapped in the iron circle that was his hold.

* * *

><p>Much to his chagrin, he was dragged inside the same hotel that Yukina and his buddy currently were in. Right from the time they were climbing the steps and as the taller man made arrangements for a room, he continuously had Shouta's hand clutched tightly, along with a steady watchful eye on him. After the details for obtaining a room were dealt with, the taller man grabbed the keys from the reception guy and herded him along. He was a little surprised at discovering that this ragged hole for a hotel actually had an elevator. The whole time during their ascent to the fourth floor both men remained silent. Shouta had no idea what was going through the man's head, but he for one was absorbed in worthless thoughts. Thoughts like how Yukina must be holding his alluring his friend, would he have the same tender look – the one that he always got whenever he had sex with him – on his face, did he even think about him while ramming his prick inside the other man and most of all, how would the younger man react when he found out that he was in the same building as him, getting it on with a stranger. The taller man all but shook him as he continued to zone off with his mind swimming in an entirely different direction. Pushing him out of the elevator, the man chuckled and said, "Stop spacing out. You can start once your girlfriend gets here."<p>

Shouta blindly stood behind him as he turned the key into the lock of their room and waited patiently as he opened the door. The room was dark as a cave. The taller man sent him a skeptical glance, almost as if accusing him for the hotel he was standing outside. Geez, he felt like telling him this pit wasn't his choice, but instead wisely kept his tongue between his teeth. Twisting his lips in a wry smile, the man put in, "Wait here kid. I'll go check if any lights work."

He didn't bother smothering a rude chuckle as he heard a muffled thud coming from inside. The man finally figured where the light switch was because the room was now flooded in a dull yellow glow from the one and only lamp inside. The man beckoned him to come in and once he had, shut the door firmly. As if deciding to button up his lips, he sauntered to the single creaky bed, crossed his arms and sat there. He studied the dull cavern serving as their room and then flicked his intent gaze on him. And continued to stare.

Unnerved, Shouta made a face and grated, "Why the heck are you staring like that?" He was bestowed with a slanderously lazy smile at that.

"No, I was just waiting for you to get psyched out by the silence and chirp your name. I'll tell you mine in turn."

Knitting his brows, Shouta shot back, "Why the hell would I do that?"

His question earned him a pained look. "I don't know if you know this, but communication is a two-way business, kid. Moreover there are two good reasons you should tell me your name. A : I wouldn't like screwing a nameless guy. And B : The more important of the two, you can scream out my name in the throes of passion."

Scowling madly, Shouta spat out, "I knew it! You lech! Why the hell would I let _you_ screw me? If you've forgotten, I'm waiting for-"

"My girlfriend," the man completed. "Christ, don't tell me you expected me to buy that farce!" he said with an exaggerated shudder. "Anyway you don't give off the vibe of a hetero man. In my opinion, it looked more like you were waiving your butt out there to hook some guy."

"Ho, you talk like you're an expert. Are you gay or something?"

"Not exactly, but I bat for both teams. Tell me something, are you always this snappy? You looked like a soft-spoken kid at first sight."

Stewing beyond reason, Shouta really flew off the handle. "Tell _me _something, do you always pick up random guys near love hotels?"

Finding his retort funny, he started to laugh like a lunatic. Thence he got to his feet and coming closer to him, traced a finger over his full bottom lip. "I'm sorry. I just meant to tease you, so don't get mad. I'm Kyou. You are?"

In the face of having the man's, no Kyou now, charm turned on in full blast, Shouta struggled to get the words out through his lips. Speaking in an unconsciously husky voice, he answered, "I'm Shouta."

Smiling softly, he gave him a small kiss on his mouth and murmured against them, "'Shouta'. I see. I'll remember that."

Following that, he made short work of their clothes. Before he could start with his foreplay tactics, Shouta stopped him. "Hold it. Let me go first."

He pushed Kyou to sit on the edge of the bed and bent down to crouch at his feet himself. Without warning, he took his huge shaft into his mouth. A blowjob was a good way to get a guy in the mood, he knew. As he moved his head up and down the long, hard length of him, as his cock swelled in size inside his mouth, he was suddenly assuaged with the memory of sucking off Yukina for the first time. He had complimented him on his technique then. He didn't want to toot his own horn but many other guys had praised him on his method. They didn't realize the trick, he thought. It was only the men and their cock sizes that varied, the technique remained exactly the same. Slipping out of his thoughts, Shouta looked up to see Kyou. His face didn't give out any sensations he was feeling, except for the hot flush coloring his high cheekbones. With a soft, "Heh," escaping his lips quite involuntarily, he thought the sly bastard wasn't that great at masking his emotions either. He sucked off the head for a few more seconds till the man came in his mouth.

Spitting out the cum, he looked up to see a fierce desire blazing in the man's eyes. The abhorrent man lifted him, placing him on the bed as if he weighed as much as a feather and resumed his former position. Grinning up at him, he said, "My turn now."

Before he knew it, his cock was put into an opening wet and scalding hot as lava. Kyou's head moved in the rhythmic movement of the act and bobbed up and down the hard length of his own considerable penis. It grated him, but it didn't take all that long for him to come with the ministrations of that magical mouth.

Next, with a noisy creak, Shouta was pushed onto the bed on his back. Kyou bent his head to hungrily take his mouth in a passionate kiss. The thick beard on his jaw abraded his skin, leaving beard burns in its wake. But presently hypnotized by this enigmatic man, Shouta didn't give one flying hoot. The kiss was greedy, sucking out all the energy Shouta possessed. Still, he wasn't in any mood to docilely submit without getting anything in return. His own tongue warred with the other man's for dominance. In the game of the hot, slick tongues, Kyou's hand crept to close over Shouta's cock. His mouth tasted of cigarettes, booze and strong coffee, which nearly intoxicated him.

Breaking off the kiss for air, Kyou's mouth left his lips to wander shamelessly all over him. His hot, wet mouth trailed kisses all over him, stopping leisurely at his nape, collarbone, nipples, navel and once more on his dick. Before Shouta could even guess his intentions, his masterful tongue advanced to prod into the most secret part of him : his asshole. It prodded, swirled, sucked and slurped inside there till it was pliant, wet and oozing, like honey oozing out of the comb.

The small opening at his back was pulsing with anticipation. By this time Shouta was mumbling incoherently between short, quick breaths from his mouth. Mumbling his name, Yukina's name over and over in delirium. In his crazed state of ecstasy he noted in the poorly lit lamplight that his partner's eyes were more hazel than brown. Those same eyes were presently looking at him with lust and primitive wanting. The man made a motion as if finally deciding to gratify that burning part of him. But changing his mind suddenly, placed the flat of one hand on the soft inner side of his thigh and placed fleeting, hot kisses there. His other hand, as if with a personality of its own was fingering him insistently.

Stopping to place one last kiss on his thigh, Kyou rounded up on his cock again. It was almost as if he had an unholy attraction to it. He laved his tongue on the head and sucked at it alternately. For one mad moment Shouta was scared that he would devour his only dick in the heat of passion; He had bitten it slightly. Lying there in a dingy room in a love hotel, with terribly mussed hair, flushed cheeks, moaning senselessly, his penis pointing at a nearly 90° angle, with a giant of a man sticking his fingers inside his asshole and doing things that would probably land them both in jail, Shouta felt such a pure thrill that he thought he would succumb with it.

In some functioning part of his brain he was aware of lascivious moans made by a woman filtering through the thin walls. For just one moment, he told himself, he would let himself revel in the pure masculine beauty of the other man and let go. Having adjusted to the poor lighting some time ago, he visually admired the stark hard planes and angles of the man. He was by no means skinny, nor bulging muscle but somewhere in the middle. Just the way he liked it. As the man was getting ready to ride him he noticed his parted lips revealing white, even teeth, chiseled cheekbones rich with abundant color, wildly tousled longish hair and for some unexplainable reason felt a fierce pang from somewhere deep inside.

The painful fact of Yukina's recent betrayal had not yet sunk in, leaving him in a state of shock. Kyou was about to push his own thrumming cock inside Shouta and maneuvered himself so that all his weigh would be balanced on his elbows. For no apparent reason, his mind replayed all the minutia right from the time he had met Yukina to some days back in vivid detail. He thought of what he was doing with this perfect stranger. Just for tonight, this unknown man would be his port in a terrifying storm. He was filled with such crushing grief that a small sob threatened to erupt at the base of his throat. It was a good coincidence that Kyou was ramming into him that he could blame the tears on the penetration. Although the prick of pain was still there at insertion, it wasn't all that numbing as that terrible first time.

Mentally hounded with another tidal wave of memories, Shouta hissed, "Bastard," at no one in particular. By then Kyou was buried deep inside him was beginning to move. Thinking that Shouta had hurled the word at him, he made a grunt, which sounded more like a growl coming from an angered animal. He started in a guttural voice, "More like sticks and stones, Shouta." Taking a deep gulp of air, he added in the same dirty voice, "Besides, you're no greenhorn at this. I can see _that_ part of you is used to this kind of stuff…"

Shouta let that slide and marveled in the hot tongues of pleasure seemingly licking his entire body. He arched his back to give Kyou better access and let convulsions of pleasure wrack his body. Chancing a glance at his partner he realized that his charismatic eyes had turned almost black with desire. He was so occupied with battling his inner demons and answering the baser demands of his body that he picked up too late that the man was ploughing into him without a condom!

Appalled, he gasped with considerable difficulty, "You bastard! You didn't put on a condom!"

Smiling a derisively serene smile, he answered, "My bad, I don't have a rubber on me. But rest easy, I'll see to it that you don't get pregnant. Moreover, I don't have any communicable STDs." His pathetic attempt at humor went unnoticed by Shouta, but he breathed easy with the admission.

With a final thrust, Kyou came inside him. In that exhilarating moment, Shouta too found release. Momentarily at least, all thoughts of Yukina were wiped clear from his mind.

After four more rounds – gosh, the man had some stamina! – he plopped on top of Shouta with all the grace of a hippo. The guy weighed nearly a ton and Shouta was finding it increasingly hard to squeeze air through his lungs. He croaked in a near-death voice, "God, you're killing me! Get off, please!"

For the first time the excruciating man docilely did as he was told and rolled onto his side. Having done that, he curled up with Shouta like a kid would its most precious teddy, breathing close to his ear, "As you wish, darling."

The next thing he knew, his lights went out like an automatic switch.

* * *

><p>Shouta groggily woke up to a dull ache in his back and between his butt cheeks. From the radium dial of the watch still wound around his left wrist, he could discern that it was three-twenty AM. Both corners of his mouth turned downward when he took in the position he was sprawled in on the stuffy, tiny single bed. One glance at the man, Kyou, obviously didn't say much of anything. Experiencing it firsthand, Shouta now knew that the man was a cuddler. Asleep just then, he held him in a tight embrace close to his naked chest and had a heavy leg draped over his pitifully small form.<p>

He extricating himself carefully – so as not to wake him – from the tangled up mess the man had created. God knew if he pushed him for another bout he just might expire. Untangling himself after seemingly forever, his breath came out in a sharp hiss at the crippling pain in his ass. He probably wouldn't be able to sit upright for a week or more. He was having this terrible feeling that the tissues in his asshole were ruptured.

Groaning, he got to his feet swaying and pushed his feet into his shoes. In his arousal last night he had forgotten to remove his socks. He slipped his legs into his jeans – he was passing on underwear this once, having rolled it into a ball and stuffing it in his pocket. He was amazed at the emptiness he felt. In his state of shock, he had had the notion that he would lose himself in sex with a stranger. But in thinking so he couldn't have been more wrong. He couldn't have felt more hollow or shallow or depressed after last night's one-time gig. As for Yukina, his brain was in blessed denial. He was about to pull his sweatshirt over his head when a hand gripped his wrist. The same vise grip from before.

As he wearily turned to face him, he was alarmed at the alert and watchful gaze focused on him. Kyou's lips twisted in a lazy grin, "'Morning. So you're up? You should have woken me too. Anyhow, give me a sec. I'll get ready." From the infinitesimal light coming from the outside streetlamps, he could make out the outline of his face, his body and the gleam in his eye. He was pretty sure the man's dick was up too! With an angry snort, Shouta wrenched his wrist from his hold. The man only tsked at that.

The guy perhaps didn't know the concept of modesty or possessed very little of it because he was strutting around the room gloriously naked! Stepping into his underwear, he said, "Its still quite early. I'll drop you home."

Even if it was unwarranted, he felt all the anger and resentment he had been holding close to his breast bubble up. Since he couldn't annihilate Yukina with his grief, fury or pain, he chose to burst out at the person nearest to him instead.

"Shut up! Just _shut up_! Don't delude yourself into thinking this is anything more than a one-night stand. We both comforted each other and that's it! Now you go your way and I go mine." He had to stop then to catch his breath. In the semi-darkness, he could sense if not see clearly, that Kyou was sighing. Shouta was pulling on his sweatshirt as he heard the sound of feet padding the floor and the flick of the light switch, after which the room was flooded with the weak light.

Thankfully with his underwear on, he was rummaging through his jean pockets. Extracting a pen and a paper from its depths, he quickly scrawled something on it and handed it to Shouta. "I know you'll say you don't need it but I noticed last night that you were deep down in the dumps. Call me if you need me for anything, even a replay of yesterday. I wouldn't mind _that_ at all."

Shouta flicked a glance at the scrap deposited in his hand. The man had written I. Kyou in English, followed by his contact number. For a few beats he glared at the paper in his hand and then transferred it to the man before him. "What will I do with this?" Not saying anything to that, Kyou took the chit from his hand and stuffed it inside Shouta's pocket.

From the looks of it there would be no point in arguing with him, so Shouta gave him, in his opinion, one last meaningful look that spoke volumes of what he thought about him. Thence he made an about turn and headed for the door.

The man said to his receding back, "You know something, kid? Of all the different types and breeds of guys out there, I like sharp-tongued smartasses the best." He got the resounding slam of the door in reply.

-THE END-

WIP, with more to come shortly 8D


	2. Chapter 2

ALL IS NOT LOST

Manga : Sekaiichi Hatsukoi

Characters : Kisa Shouta, Yukina Kou and Ijuuin Kyou

Rating : T

DISCLAIMER : All characters belong to Nakamura Shungiku.

Summary : Life takes a hideous downswing for 32 year old Kisa Shouta when his worst suspicion is answered – that of Yukina's messing around with him. The one comforting him at this time is the person to whom his existence scarcely mattered before : Ijuuin Kyou.

**A/N : I feel the strong need to say this – Don't like, ****don't read!**

"_Don't_ you think Yukina-kun isn't himself these days?"

"Yeah, I so do. He looks so withdrawn and his smiles seem forced, don't you think?"

"He's been like that for a few days now. When I asked him about his recommendations he started to zone out in the middle of speaking them!"

"I think he got his heart broken by some mean girl. Any girl who _dumps_ him has got to be nuts and…"

Yukina was conscious of these loud whispers coming from his ever loyal customers through some peripheral part of his brain. If his thoughts were showing so clearly on his face then he shuddered to think how he looked. Although he was too busy looking after his own wounds to spare any energy or inclination to soothe the girls' worries. He'd been stricken and dismayed, more at what he had been about to do than what he had done. The past eight days had been rife with overdoses of guilt and shock. Things were very rapidly spinning out of his control.

It began with the small tiff he had with Kisa. The post-production work and making of his anime had gotten started in full swing. As a result he started coming home really late at first, only to stumble back home in the wee hours of dawn within some days. With the normal course of their lifestyles the amount of time they got with each other was zilch. The only way Yukina saw to their situation was to make some efforts himself so that their liaison didn't suffer. Kisa had trusted him to hand over a spare house key. His job while the number of hours the older man put into his work steadily lengthened was to wait, wait and wait some more at home. Once the older man got home, they would rally the few words that passed for conversation, after which Yukina would tuck him into bed and lie next to him. This was the natural, unchanging order of things till he lost his head and good sense that one day. As usual, Kisa came home by two am, tottering back with the only intention of hitting the hay. By that time Yukina had been feeling his patience was gradually dissolving ounce by ounce. So he had done the stupid thing : coax Kisa into sleeping with him, albeit gently. In response, the older man had bristled, pushed Yukina away from himself and come down hard on him. He told him off saying he slogged his ass off in the workplace with the only hope of sleep. And by sleep his definition was of the one where people closed their eyes and assumed a state of deep unconsciousness for a few, pithy hours, _not_ the one with Yukina anywhere on or in him. Slightly put out himself, Yukina had vocalized his thoughts. He had heatedly asked the older man why they needed an editor for an anime, persisting that an author was more than enough for the input and consultations for the dialogue and screenplay. To that Kisa had adamantly insisted that no, they had a good need for an editor as well. The spat then intensified and winged in a totally different dimension. In the face of Kisa's wrath due to lack of sleep, Yukina lost and was thrown out of the bedroom on his ear, with the door shut in his face. He had spent that night and some other unlucky nights on the small, cramped sofa. With no end to Kisa's flaky schedule in sight, Yukina had to swallow the bitter pill of realization that in the act of waiting on Kisa, sometimes even till mid-morning, he couldn't afford to keep missing his college lectures or part-time (which had become part-time in name only, his work hours and pay had increased to that of a full time employee) anymore. So he had, rather unwillingly, gone back to his house and attended his regular lectures with a promise from Kisa that he would carve out some time for them whenever he could. Which had been two times in all up until then. Still, he knew he couldn't push him. The sole option lying before him was to dig in deeper for some more patience from his endless reserves of it.

Roughly a week back, he had been ecstatic at the prospect of meeting the older man after the long gap. But he didn't have much luck to bank on. Right on the day of his anticipated meeting, he had come to know of an important test (which he hadn't been aware of) falling on the next day, along with an assignment that had to be submitted the same day. Thus, with a heavy heart, he had sent Kisa a mail informing him that he couldn't meet him. He had been about to tell the manager that he was taking a day off but because two more part-timers had taken a leave that day, he'd been allowed only a half day off.

Fortunately, there weren't many customers in the store that day, so he had thought his half day would pass quickly. He'd been arranging books on the shelves when an unfamiliar voice called him by his given name – Kou. Surprised, he had turned around to look at the person who addressed him this familiarly. At first glance, he couldn't place him but thought the person definitely resembled someone he knew. The man before him was lanky, had ebony colored hair, was deathly pale and rail thin. But it was his distinct, burnished brown color eyes that extinguished most of his memory's cobwebs. Finding his quizzical gaze on him amusing, he smiled, which cause two deep, well-defined dimples to appear in the hollows of his cheeks. That cleared the last of his doubts. It was Sora, his elementary and middle school best friend.

If his memory served correctly, Sora had been a sickly boy even in his childhood. His weak lungs, liver and heart – a gift from the complications during his birth – had hampered his natural growth process, making him the shortest kid in class. The single thing that kept him from becoming the prime target of bullies was the fact that he always hung around Yukina, who was more than capable of standing up for himself and others if necessary. He had been a late bloomer and as a consequence attained his growth spurt much behind the other guys in his grade. But the final outcome was what counted. By the time he was seventeen he had filled out nicely in all the places that mattered and gained those palpable inches in height. Regrettably, by eighteen, when other guys were in the prime of their youth, his health had failed miserably causing him to so much as drop out in the final semester of highschool. The day he came to see Yukina in the store was the first the latter had seen of him since.

Yukina could reminiscence those days, when the girls in his class had compared both of them to debate over who was better in the looks department, with a lot of fondness. An unfathomable number of young, dewy-eyed girls had set their eyes on him, mainly because of his fragile and poetic good looks. But the person in the centre of all attention, Sora, hadn't seemed to give a damn to all the maiden hearts he was undoubtedly stirring. Yukina had been sure about the matter. The other guy was very serious about someone and so had tried to goad him into spilling it. But each time he tried, Sora had gotten a brooding look on his face and had been tight-lipped about that one thing he regarded as his personal secret, the name of the person he loved, to such an extent that Yukina had never gotten wind of the knowledge.

Lugging himself back to the present, Yukina was once more startled by the changes he was seeing in him. If he thought about it, he had always been pale but the current whiteness had to be a result of only two things: either the guy was scared to death of something (which he highly doubted) or the more plausible reason, the pallidity was a result of a recent longtime illness. Added to that, he looked really gaunt, with his bones sticking out painfully through his clothes and appeared somewhat anorexic.

Taking in the newer changes that had come about in him, Yukina returned his smile (which had grown shyer with his non-stop scrutiny) with a warm one of his own. As they started a conversation, Yukina realized with some appreciation that the old sense of camaraderie was very much there between them. Sora was still the walking and talking quintessence of the saying 'never judge a book by its cover,' which was true, at least in his case. At first glance he looked like a delicate, gloomy dunce but on opening up had a truly amazing sense of humor and possessed a cutting tongue. Even as a boy he had been quick to smile and even quicker to bite. In a few minutes, both fell into their pleasant old rhythm of harmless bickering. He made Yukina smile and laugh with some of his quirky tales, courtesy of his astute observation skills. He remembered once again why he'd picked him as his best friend from among the many kids in his grade. In the past he could tell him some of the things which he wouldn't have dared to let slip before others, being in his company was easy, the kind of easy that came from a long acquaintance, like a soothing balm. For a few moments he could put his qualms of not being able to see Kisa to rest.

By way of conversation, Yukina asked him what he was up to these days. His offhand question had the effect of making the other man's face a study in melancholy. He gave Yukina a rueful smile, followed by a humorless, self-depreciating laugh. With a wry twist to his mouth that made Yukina strangely uneasy, he related the time starting from his eighteenth birthday from where he'd gone on to be shuffled to and fro through countless hospitals. He had been making a living by writing and illustrating children's books. Listening to him, Yukina felt no words would provide adequate solace to his friend, and so kept silent while feeling a profound sense of sympathy for him. Passing on some more details of life in hospitals, Sora completed his part by throwing in the final clincher. He told Yukina that time had stopped for him from that last time he had seen him. In highschool Yukina had frequently asked him who the one person he loved was. At present, he felt no fear to hide it. Sora had loved Yukina from the first time he had seen him, from the time they were in kindergarten. He had never revealed it to him for fear that Yukina would start hating him but at present he didn't have those fears any longer. Abruptly taking Yukina's hand in his own, the other man told him he wanted to ask him a last favor, the choice of which he would leave entirely up to him. He wanted to have sex with Yukina. Sora persisted that at least, he should do this for the sake of their childhood friendship.

His admission made something shrivel up inside Yukina, suddenly making him feel sick. His mouth felt dry and his throat parched, as if someone had poured sand down it. He came to the immediate conclusion that this wasn't the friend he knew. As he had said in his own words, because of his infirmities time had ceased to move for him, making him exist in a past that was no longer relevant. Those teen-aged emotions had been given so much time to ferment that they had now mushroomed into an intensely fierce emotion. That emotion would probably never become requited.

He pictured Kisa, who unaware of the dilemma Yukina was in, was perhaps working hard at his endless job. Thinking of Kisa gave his flagging resolve the strength to do what he felt was right. Pulling his hand from Sora's grasp, Yukina gave him a vehement no and for his part, cried out against it. Fervent in his refusal, Yukina told him that there was no way he could do it. He had a partner whom he loved and whom he couldn't betray. Coming up with the same mirthless laugh he'd shown him before, Sora blindsided him with his next words. He told him his doctors had detected a malignant tumor in his brain and his life expectancy was a bare few weeks. This was probably the last time he would be seeing him because he would soon be joining his ancestors wherever God deemed suitable for him, either heaven or hell. As it was, he would promise to never meet him again after the deed was done. Packing his words with much more force, he told him almost conversationally that it was the least he could do for him. As to any sense of unfaithfulness he feared he would subject his partner to, he could seal his lips and no one would be the wiser.

It was like Yukina had been sucker punched. The position he was in was bleak and dismal. He was of two, distinct minds. In his state of indecision as to what was right and what wasn't, a small part of his brain was telling him to go ahead and do it. The countless days when he had gone without and stayed celibate came to his mind. That immoral part of his brain was pushing him, telling him he could take this one clandestine act with him to his grave. There was no danger of Kisa coming to know of it if he wasn't the one breaking it out to him, which he wouldn't. It was almost as if he was signing a pact with the devil. This man who stood before him, whom he had considered a friend for the better part of his life seemed far-away and alien. Yukina would never have done the thing he was telling him to out of his own will. Not saying anything, Yukina stared at him despondently, willing him with his eyes to take back the words he had spoken. But of course, he did no such thing. As he vacillated between the odds he'd been presented with, he suddenly blurted a yes. Yukina was ashamed at himself for the action he was about to take. As if on autopilot, he mechanically removed his staff apron and told one of the other part-timers that he was leaving. Looking him over, the now hateful Sora gave him a small smile of approval. While he made his way to the exit, Sora matched his steps and twined his fingers with Yukina's. At his remorseless action, Yukina felt the urge to wrench his hand out of his disgusting hold and slap him. But again, he didn't do any of those things.

As they began to walk the cemented footpath, Yukina shook his hand out of Sora's hold and remained aloof. Once they hailed a taxi, Yukina got inside and remained firmly rooted to his side of the seat, abhorring even the slightest of physical contact. He let Sora direct the driver to their destination and drifted off with his thoughts. His mind conjured up an image of Kisa laughing at something he had found funny at sometime and the mental image and his own act of unfaithfulness wrung his heart to a zillion smithereens. Again, he thought he didn't deserve a man like Kisa. The older man tried to encase himself in an impenetrable armor so that his soft, kind heart didn't get hurt. Hiding behind the hesitant façade was a very competent, passionate, compassionate and vulnerable man.

In the end, he was all talk. He constantly kept telling Kisa that the shoujo manga world was real. That the sentiments, the pure emotions, the trust, the faith in true love wasn't the figment of someone's overactive imagination but true. Some men testified to being one-woman men. That would make him Kisa's exclusive and only man since he had eyes for no one but him. All he thought, felt and idealized would crumble like dominoes with this one act of infidelity. And he would never be able to forgive himself. The few times the older man had spoken about his past, he had been able to catch on to the kind of men he had dated. All of them were either behind his body or attracted to his young, boyish face. Even if they found odd ways to profess their love to him, Kisa didn't feel a thing for them. All they had been and would be was fuck partners for him. Kisa had admitted to loving him and started being open about his feelings after a long time. Yukina knew that expressing his feelings wasn't easy for the older man. Finally, when they had an established relationship, he didn't want to become a reason for its end. Nor did he want to become one among the many men in his past. He made it a point to listen to his heart almost always. That same heart had persistently been telling him that he would be mad to go through with it.

Within twenty minutes, which slipped away almost cruelly, they arrived at an area comprising of love hotels.

Not feeling the least bit forthcoming or cooperative, Yukina snubbed him by making him pay the taxi fare. Getting out from his side of the taxi, he started walking ahead without waiting for Sora. The other man, in his eagerness, caught up to him quickly and stood behind him as he booked a room for both of them. He could feel him veritably thrumming with excitement. Both got a room on the first floor and seemed to reach there in almost no time. Yukina was gingerly putting one foot in front of the other, while the other man more or less leapt into the room, closing the door behind him with an impatient slam.

Yukina felt sick to his stomach just thinking of the prospect of screwing the other man. Under five minutes, Sora had discarded all his clothes and waited expectantly. When Yukina didn't move a muscle, he made his way to the fully clothed Yukina, wound his hands around his neck and suggestively ground his fully erect cock into his pelvic cavity. Yukina feared he would puke. Making himself at home while holding Yukina, Sora muttered softly that he would be giving him one of the biggest gifts he had; That of his virginity. Repulsed beyond words, Yukina had asked him incredulously if he'd never had sex before. He got a blunt yes in answer. Sora had replied that he had had handjobs and blowjobs before, but he had never put his cock into anyone, nor lent his asshole to anyone. He had thought that if at all he were to do it with someone, he wanted that someone to be only Yukina.

He should have felt aroused at having such unsubtle provocations directed at him. But Yukina couldn't summon a single flicker of desire for the man rubbing himself against his body. In fact all he could feel was the dull sensation where Sora's ribs were pressing into him and the general sense of loathing he was beginning to associate with his former friend whenever he laid his eyes on him. Seeing him naked didn't arouse the least bit of interest in him. To the contrary, he got angry at Sora for trying to sully their friendship. He told him so in no uncertain terms. If he would have been crazy enough to go along with it, all the good memories of his friend would have been tainted with that one mistake, that one night that should never have occurred. Above all he wouldn't have been able to face himself, much less Kisa.

So instead of committing the horrendous blunder, he unwound Sora's hands from around his neck and helped him pull on his clothes. Both spoke only the little minimum that was required and absolutely avoided any sort of eye-contact. In the end he had sent Sora off in a cab, with the latter's promise still standing between them; They would never see each other again.

Looking back at the events that had occurred eight days ago, Yukina cringed at the thought of the disaster he had been about to wreak. He began to listlessly check his inbox for some message from Kisa but there were none, it was somehow strangely ironic. He was browsing through some of the photos by which he'd captured different expressions on Kisa's face when one of the permanent guys caught his attention by calling him by name. It was the same man who objected the most to having Yukina in the store, even after nearly three and a half years. He gave Yukina a sulphurious look and whispered in acidic voice meant only for his ears, "Stop standing there like a statue already. We haven't hired you as a mere accessory." This was what he got after putting in so much of his time and energy into his shop. The man's pure hatred for him never failed to amuse him. He smirked and whispered just as softly, "I know that. But thanks for reminding me anyway." His rejoinder earned him a short censorious look, after which the man sniffed and took off with a stuck-up air.

A bunch of customers came into the store and Yukina got busy with smiling, flirting and telling them his recommendations for the week as normally as he could. The gaggle of customers who had been eyeing him strangely let out a collective sigh of relief and all was back to the usual. He had been stringing along a particularly flush customer when he felt someone tentatively poke his shoulder. He turned to face the person bucking for his attention, half expecting to find another twittery girl when it turned out to be the manager. As a rule, the man had a peaceful, self-contented look about him but just then his face was pinched with worry. Yukina excused himself from the giggly, talkative girls surrounding him and followed the manager to the back of the store. This was the first time he had seen the man actually wring his hands in tension.

He was having cold feet just by observing him. "What's wrong, manager? Is there some problem?" The man shook his head hopelessly at Yukina's question and answered in a strangled voice, "_Yes_, Yukina-kun, there's a really tricky problem. You know that in most stores like ours, we pre-order the books in advance of its release date. I've gotten in touch with a few other stores in this area and they too have the same problem…"

Antsy with the prolonged suspense, Yukina urged the man to spill the beans. "But _what_ is the problem? I won't know if you don't explain it clearly."

Wired tightly, the man at last put the cards on the table. "I hate to break this out to you but the limited edition copies of Morimoto Kana's, Mutou Yukina's and some three other authors' stock of yet-to-be-released books have been…stolen." The manager was saying these words in such a soft voice that Yukina was having difficulty following him. He said the word 'stolen' as if it was the blasphemy of Buddha. But more than that, Yukina was shaken to hear that his favorite author, Morimoto Kana, whose work was edited by his lover, Kisa was stolen. Not knowing what to say for the first time, he gaped at the manager for him to put in something helpful. The poor man was already running scared, he wiped his forehead where beads of sweat had begun to pop up and continued.

"Don't worry, Yukina-kun, it s not like our store has been targeted or something. Like I said, a few more shops in this area have the same issue before them. As to the disappearance or what I personally believe as theft of the new volumes, there's not much much we retailers can do in the matter. As soon as I found out about this, I told the respective publishers about the issue and I've been informed that more copies will come shortly, if not on the day of the release." There he paused for effect or maybe to catch his breath since he'd said it all in a rush.

He added in the end, "The books can fortunately be replaced, but I don't want such a situation to arise again. And for that to happen, we as employees have to become more alert and vigilant. I've gone through the tapes of the last three weeks recorded by our security cameras and with some help from the police, I've been able to narrow down the list of likely suspects to five people who've been regulars of our shop. Since you're mostly at the cash counter, I want to take a look at a guy whom I find especially suspicious."

Before Yukina could reply, the manager inserted a disk into his laptop and a recording started to play on the screen. The date and time coincided with the day the bastard, Sora had made a visit in his store. Yukina wondered if he was a thief now? Highly unlikely. He saw himself on the LCD screen of the laptop, working at arranging some books. After some twenty minutes, Sora had arrived at the scene and they were chatting on the screen. Within the next ten minutes, the suspicious character the manager had been going on about appeared on the screen, along with the hissing accompaniment of, "That's him, that's him!," from the manager at his side. The camera then zoomed in on him as he swiftly made his way into the shop with a sanitary mask on his face. The diminutive man struck Yukina as someone spookily familiar. Without waiting for the manager's consent, he paused the CD and replayed it back to the time the guy was sticking the mask on his face. In that split second, he recognized his face. It was Kisa! After putting the mask on, he made his way behind a towering bookshelf and was peeping – _peeping!_ – from the crack in the middle of the books. Judging from the location the bookshelf was in, Yukina knew for a fact that the crack led straight to the cash counter at the front. On closer inspection the hair, the bag, the sweatshirt, the body language, the slightly self-conscious air he exuded were all the same. Had he seen him with Sora?

Snapping out of his thoughts, he realized that the manager was repeatedly calling his name. He said, "The camera doesn't exactly show how he stole it but I'm positive it was that midget. I just need some clue…" As the man continued to say something, Yukina tuned him out and thought with some disbelief that it was _Kisa_! Something was coiling painfully at the pit of his stomach. But he would have to leave the brainwork for some other time. The task at hand was to convince his manager that the tiny man on the screen was no thief. And he did just that. "Manager, I think you're mistaken. I know that man. He's no _thief _but one of the editors from Marukawa. He must have come to browse some books." At the revelation, the manager looked deflated and let Yukina go with his word that he would come to oversee some more tapes.

Yukina found a private corner for himself and let out the breath he had been holding in the form of a giant sigh. If he knew Kisa as well as he did, which was really well, he knew that he would feel wary of Yukina now. And if Kisa had succumbed to his bad stalker tendencies, then God alone knew what he must have made out of what he'd seen. Maybe he had gotten off the wrong side of the bed or it was because of that awful dream he had had - of each and every link he had with the older man snapping off before he woke up. He didn't know what but he had a very bad feeling that something extremely unpleasant was about to happen. Of all things, he couldn't let a lie or a half-truth come between them at this juncture in their relationship. Even though he had kept it from the older man for the past eight days, he would tell Kisa everything that had transpired on that god-awful night as soon as he could.

-THE END-

Hope you liked it :)

4 more chapters to go…


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